


Hidden in the Darkness

by YaminoTenshi202



Series: Grá mo chroí [4]
Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: BDSM, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub, First Time, Friendship, Incest, Long, M/M, No Sex, Secret Relationship, Sex Education, Sneaking Around, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-09-01 09:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20256199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoTenshi202/pseuds/YaminoTenshi202
Summary: They talked when the idea had crossed their minds, seemingly at the same time.-Donald and Scrooge learn each other's boundaries. Everything goes pretty well, considering that Donald has only ever watched before.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Keep in mind what series and tags this fic has associated with it. Tread carefully.
> 
> Please see: https://devan-shires.tumblr.com/post/185768200627/commissions-for-fanfiction-open

They talked when the idea had crossed their minds, seemingly at the same time.

They had been watching a film that Donald had grabbed when at the library. It turned sexual during the first act, and that had definitely caught Scrooge's attention. The older drake had shifted a few times in his seat during the course of the film. His body's reaction had surprised him, reminding him of days when he was more nubile to such pleasures. Donald looked over at him, somewhat confused.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, dear." Donald gave him a dead-pan stare, one that saw right through Scrooge. "Fine, I'm just… intrigued by the film."

"There's a surprising amount of sex in it." Donald frowned slightly.

"No, that doesn't bother me, dear," Scrooge reassured his love, keeping an eye on Donald's frown. "Does it bother you?"

"... It's not like I don't know how it feels. You know, being turned on," Donald groaned. He did not want this conversation to happen; it felt too much like being a preteen again. "This just doesn't do it for me."

"No?" Scrooge hummed. "What does it, then? What makes you excited?"

Donald's cheeks flushed with a brilliant pink, enough to brighten up his feathers.

"Come on, love." Donald covered his face, giggling when Scrooge came close and pressed kisses to his forehead. "What would make you happy?"

"You don't think it's weird?"

"... Donald, I'm over one hundred years old. I'm too old to find anything to be weird."

"Just like you're too old to be straight."

"Exactly so."

Donald nodded, grabbing at Scrooge's hands that cradled his face. "Don't get me wrong, sex would probably feel really, really good."

"It can be, yes."

"But…" Donald looked to the screen. One man had gotten on his hands and knees, experiencing something for the first time. His partner rolled their hips forward, making the man tense for a moment before moving against his partner. 

They began a pattern, one that made Donald remember how he had watched as Jose and Panchito roll their bodies together. They knew each other's bodies in a way that had made Donald curious once. Panchito had showed Donald where to stroke Jose, how to make his feathers ruffle in a shivering burst of excitement as Panchito pleasured Jose with his mouth. It had not warmed or aroused any part of Donald's body. It did, however, make Donald feel so invited by his friends as their bodies melded together in the way that partners seemed to when loving each other. Donald even melted into it, with Jose's praises and-

"What are you thinking about?"

Donald looked to Scrooge, who came close and kissed at Donald's hands. His eyes, however, were lower. Donald looked down and he could see his own cock rising to attention.

"Um, college. Panchito and Jose let me watch, and Jose was telling me that I was good. I guess that-" he stared down at his erection, the true culprit here. Scrooge chuckled.

"Well, I'm sure we could figure something out if you'd like to try it."

Donald nodded. He leant forward on Scrooge's chest, sighing. "I want to feel that way with you. Jose and Panchito… they looked so beautiful together."

"Of course, love. I'd imagine that you'd look lovely as well, though my mind may be a bit more carnal than yours in that case." Scrooge kissed his love’s forehead, trying to be a source of comfort. “Can I talk to you? Do what you liked your friends doing?”

“... Turn off the film.” 

Scrooge did so. When he turned back to Donald, Donald pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Scrooge hummed, turning fully to capture that kiss.

Donald moved where Scrooge would push, letting Scrooge hold him close and bring him into the older drake’s lap. Scrooge pulled away, kissing Donald’s cheeks and holding Donald as Donald shifted his hips.

“You’re so lovely, Donald.”

Donald shuddered, holding his arms around Scrooge’s neck. He thought back to how Jose had held him, whispered sweet things to him. Now, he could feel Scrooge’s voice against his ear, a hand slowly going down Donald’s torso. It was slow, steady, asking for permission that Donald gave with a firm nod, little noises of affirmation as Scrooge touched his dearest love for the first time.

“Oh…” Donald hid his face in Scrooge’s shoulder.

“Look at you like this. You’re so beautiful. You’re so brave, my love, letting me do this-”

A pull that stimulated just a bit too much had Donald hiss. Scrooge held still, hushing and whispering soft, rapid apologies to Donald. The younger drake just took deep breaths, trying to get back to that place, sweet and all his love of Scrooge. It wasn’t hard.

“Slow, Scrooge. Just slow-” Scrooge obeyed, not letting his praises stop in their frequency. Donald gave a few more thrusts of his hips, trying to focus on Scrooge. Scrooge, who was being so patient, so aware of what Donald wanted, and was telling Donald how beautiful, lovely, good boy good boy good boy-

Donald cried out and felt a pleasure rush into his head that he couldn't stay alert.

When he came to, Donald met eyes just like his own, bright and blue. Scrooge cradled Donald head in his lap, rubbing his head-feathers back.

"... The Hell was that?"

"Have you never done that before?"

"Never touched my cock save for going to the bathroom."

Donald closed his eyes, focused on Scrooge’s hand smoothing his feathers. This felt like how Jose and Panchito seemed when, after completing their love-making, they would hold Donald close, pressing kisses to each other’s beaks and to Donald’s as well, making sure that he knew how much they loved him. They loved him, even if he didn’t return the same kind of love that they had for him.

“Are you all right?”

“It feels so nice…” Donald let out a soft exhale, a sigh that let out any remaining tension in his bones. He couldn’t remember feeling so relaxed, except when…

“Can you, just, hold me?”

“Of course, my love.” Scrooge gathered Donald so that the younger drake could be on his lap, held as Scrooge cooed soft reassurances to him. Donald had begun to shiver, a feeling that he was trying to adjust to now that he experienced a physical pleasure that he had never before sought out. Pornographic magazines could only go so far as to attract his attention in his younger days.

As Donald drifted off for a quick nap, one that Scrooge left him on the couch for so that he could make some arrangements for a business transaction - “It will be a little while, my dear. Just rest.” - Donald began to dream of what had made his mind focus on his uncle so much during his youth.

He could remember when Uncle Scrooge brought them into his home. His sister had latched onto Uncle Scrooge, focusing on forgetting her pain and growing past it. Donald had tried to get to know is enigmatic uncle better.

Scrooge had been gone during the time that Donald had been infected with diphtheria. Having not ever had many vaccines and never having the disease himself, his uncle was advised to stay away, lest the family have two ill relatives on their hands, or two possible deaths.

Donald had had to have his larynx cut away, to the point that talking was more of a guessing game for much of his life growing up. After his injury in the service, his voice had grown into a noise made only with air and a clever movement of his tongue and mouth. The speech therapists had attempted to have him learn to speak, but the damage was bad the first time, and the second surgery only made it closer to impossible for him to have a “normal” voice.

Della had never minded. She just said that he sounded like a water duck, one of the birds that would sink down in the park pond and look for the peas that they would be fed when the twins were taken to the park. She liked his voice, and she always made adjustments for it.

Scrooge, on the other hand, understood him right away. Scrooge McDuck knew so many languages, and from his travels around the world, he had learnt to listen to people’s speech before trying to make any comments about not understanding. It didn’t come into play when he was truly furious or the other party was trying to swindle him; however, with Donald, he was always patient and lenient. Donald could take five minutes to do a speech that would take Della three minutes, only to make sure that he was understood; Scrooge would practice with him, making sure that the words were ones that could be easily understood without losing what Donald truly wanted to say.

The stories that Scrooge had made Donald want to travel the world, though not always on the adventures that they were roped into as a family. Donald had never wanted to endanger his family; he remembered his parents in the hospital too clearly to ever want his family to be hospitalised, for any reason.

One night, Donald had gotten a cold. Nothing to worry about, even he knew that. Scrooge had stayed with him the whole time, making him soup and cancelling his meetings to take care of his nephew. Donald drifted off to sleep from the fever several times, but Scrooge was still there, holding him as the elder drake slept as well.

Scrooge was a handsome drake. Bright blue eyes, ambitious and hungry; beautiful feathers that showed age and wisdom; and the accent that rolled off with his words were all home to Donald; all of those things made Donald think that he would rather give up every opportunity in the world, just to be by his uncle’s side, by Scrooge McDuck’s side…

Now he had Scrooge, and Donald would treasure that.

When he was done with his nap, Donald went looking for his love. Scrooge might have been done with his meeting already…

“Master Donald, are you looking for Mister McDuck?” Donald turned and smiled at Duckworth. He’d known the man about as long as he had known his uncle, the servant ever faithful at Scrooge’s side. Like anyone in the family, Donald always looked for Scrooge whenever he had free time, ever since his youth.

“Yeah, do you know where he is?”

“In his private study, sir. He was finalizing a deal with an engineering company. There had been discussion about refining the vocational education given to those at McDuck Water and Electric.”

Donald nodded, thanking Duckworth and going upstairs to perhaps meet his uncle there.

“Oh, sir!”

“Yes, Duckworth?”

“Your friend was looking for you. Miss Daisy?”

Donald let surprise wash over him. He hadn’t seen Daisy since he had left for duty. He had gotten to come home when his training had finished in the Royal Navy and then had come to see that she was waiting for him, as she always did. Even now, she had only called since his honourable discharge but had kept away, letting him rest. She stayed her distance even if it meant that he could fall into his uncle’s embrace easily and differently that anyone else would think.

She really was too good for him.

“Did she call?”

“Yes. She left her number - as she has always done - and hoped that you would call her back. It was only about twenty minutes ago.”

Knowing Duckworth, it was exactly twenty minutes ago.

“Thank you.”

With that, Duckworth walked away. Donald went up to his room.

* * *

“_ Donald, you idiot! _”

He probably deserved that.

“_ You haven’t come to see me since you got back from Scotland! _”

“I’ve been trying to rest up from being in the hospital, Daze.” 

“_ You can call. We can have tea. Watch a movie. Throw me a bone, Donald _.” Donald sighed. Yeah, he could have called.

“I needed some time. I’m sorry.”

“_ ... Are you okay? Can I do anything for you? _”

“Do you wanna have lunch somewhere? Maybe next week?”

“_ Oh, sure! What about next Tuesday? _”

Five days would give him some time, just to… get used to his position at home again.

“That would be great, Daisy!” Donald said that truthfully, but it pulled an understanding out of his bones. He really wanted to see her!

They finished their call, and Donald went back to looking around his room. He had shared his room with his sister Della since they were born. Only when he was on tour did he ever leave her, and now… 

Now Della wasn’t often at home. She had befriended someone in the Naval Hospital, someone that she had met while Donald had been alone with his uncle. Some handsome drake - Aiden, Donald remembered, a rather… appealing - had caught her fancy, her attentions, and now Della was in England, following him on a visit to some University friend’s flat and pub.

He had a call from her earlier in the day. Della had described Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, the Crown Jewels, and even the MI-6 Building. She could have sworn that she saw James Pond and M through the glass. However, before Donald could prod her for more details - how was Aiden, how was his prosthetic treating him, and how was she doing? - Della had bid him good-bye and hung up quite promptly.

Donald stared at her empty bed, hoping that he could see her somehow. If he had dared, Donald could have smelt her in the sheets. It was the most familiar smell, only second to Scrooge’s scent.

Though… Scrooge’s scent was almost embedded in his skin now. After what had happened in the private sitting room, Donald couldn’t remember being without Scrooge’s skin or mouth on him. He felt so safe, so sure, so loved loved loved-

“Donald?”

Donald looked over to the door, smiling as he allowed his visitor to come inside and saw Scrooge in the doorway. He walked over, hugging his uncle tightly. He wanted to hold him close.

“Shall we go have lunch, my dear?”

* * *

Donald didn’t find himself pining for that feeling, the feeling that Scrooge had built inside of him. He realised, after thinking about it more deeply than he probably should have, that Scrooge had always made him feel safe and loved. However, this was being loved as an adult, as someone who was able to be independent and powerful. 

Scrooge looked at him the same way that Donald had looked at him for years - wanting to be together. He loved that feeling so much more. He enjoyed Scrooge talking to him during dinner, patting his hand and kissing his forehead, a facade for the feelings that they really had.

When Scrooge came into Donald's bed that night, silent save for bidding him good night and a kiss to Donald’s cheek, Donald stared up at the ceiling. He was listening to his heart in his ears, face blooming red in the dark.

Della wasn’t home, and he was thankful for it.

Donald thought of what he and Scrooge could do together, now that they were like this. They could hold hands, kiss, and just enjoy each other’s company. Though Donald was the more cautious on their adventures (and in life in general), Scrooge managed to help him branch out and do so many things that Donald would have never risked. In that way, Scrooge gave Donald more hope and happiness than anything in the world.

He fell under the spell of sleep, dreaming.

* * *

Donald was always an early riser. When he had been in the hospital in his ducklinghood, Donald would wake up to meet his new morning nurse, their assistant, and the respiratory therapist. In school, he’d wake up Della and make sure that they both took their vitamins, ate breakfast, and that they weren’t late to the bus. The military had only strengthened that, drills becoming so entwined with his schedule so that his body memorised them.

He was taking a shower, hurried but efficient. He wanted to take a walk this morning. He hadn’t seen the sunrise in a while.

When he came back to his room, Scrooge sat on his bed, hugging his knees. Donald smiled and began to come close to the bed. He noticed that something seemed wrong. Scrooge looked up at him, blinking rapidly. He was waking up from a dream, and with that, Donald sat on the side of the bed, eyes looking over Scrooge.

Donald had been a Corpsman in the Navy. His engineering background helped, but Donald found that he most often found out that accidents happened anywhere and everywhere. His eyes looked over Scrooge, assessing quickly for anything life-threatening. Ruling everything out that he could, Donald looked up at Scrooge's eyes. He pressed gently, a hand on Scrooge's knee. From there, he squeezed tenderly, feeling Scrooge relax under his touch.

"... Are you okay?"

Scrooge closed his eyes, letting out a sigh through his nose. He looked over to Donald. Donald pressed Scrooge's head against his shoulder. Scrooge looked so tired, haunted.

Scrooge said softly, "I'll have to get used to your routine."

Donald frowned. Scrooge's shoulders were tense, not relaxed like how they had seemed just before bed. This was not his uncle that would be ready to pounce on a prize; this was too sad for that.

"... I'm sorry that I didn't wake you. I could have stayed-"

"_Grá mo chroí_, you are your own man, not just mine." Scrooge smiled, pressing kisses to Donald's cheeks, brow, and anywhere but his mouth. He cradled Donald's face between his hands. "I have some insecurities, yes, but I do not expect or want you to change everything just for me. If I wanted that, I could hire someone with no lost love."

Donald bit his lip at a remark that wanted to escape him, but he resisted. Scrooge noticed.

"What, dear?"

"I don't know if you could afford me."

"What? Me? Not able to afford something? Or afford you?"

"Could you part with your riches just to have me?" Donald teased. He lost the pure mirth in his smile when Scrooge kissed the corner of his beak, a soft and shy thing. He didn't expect all of the seriousness in his love's gaze. This wasn't the joyous uncle that had cared for him so tenderly. This was the man in paintings, the Empire-Builder of Calisota who had fought so harshly with his mother that his attitude had turned cold and was berated so much by Grandma Elvira that he had turned harsh. This was a man that Donald knew and loved but was always surprised to see - a lonely man.

"In a heartbeat."

Scrooge's voice carried the strength and honesty of his near-eternal youth. For whatever reason, that brought tears to Donald's eyes.

Scrooge was cooing at him, and Donald felt kisses to the corners of his eyes. He was being comforted for something that he didn't understand... Or rather, he didn't understand how he had gotten so lucky to have someone who was kissing him sweetly, kissing at his tears. Donald brought his arms to Scrooge's torso, wrapping him in a large embrace. His lover welcomed it, returning it while still caressing Donald's cheeks with kisses.


	2. II

"Damn."

Scrooge shook his head. He tried to make sure that his box wouldn't come apart again, but it wouldn't stay. His papers continued to spill out onto the floor, further frustrating him. He'd moved his other documents well, but perhaps he should have changed the material with which he had made the document containers. The cardboard had been quite cheap at the time...

"You've moved eight boxes already, Scrooge." Scrooge looked up, seeing Donald standing in front of him. He spied the rope in his love's hands and sighed.

"Fine. Hand me the rope, and I'll-" Scrooge stood up, ignoring a growing pain in his lower back. He let out a small groan.

"No. Go sit down." Donald knelt down, grabbing a strand of rope and placing it under the box. He soon started piling the papers inside.

"Don't just throw them in!"

"... Are you using these papers right now?"

"Well, I... Ack!" Scrooge threw his hands up, stomping over to his office chair. He threw himself into the seat, giving Donald something that the younger duck would call a pout if he didn't care for his own safety. Donald set about to tying a secure knot, making sure that the papers wouldn't slip out. Once it was tight, he moved to the next one and repeated the task. He could hear Scrooge humming softly.

"You have skilled hands."

Donald smiled.

"I'm glad you think so."

* * *

Scrooge had his head in Donald's lap, laying down and staring up at his love. Donald had taken a nap while Scrooge had been talking about a story of his youth, when he had reached two million dollars, and still a young man, he had been. Donald was so relaxed... It was the most comfortable that Scrooge had seen him since he had come back home. The look of his nephew in the aftermath of an orgasm was a good contender, though. Donald had always loved a good story.

Now, as Donald slept, Scrooge thought of their time together. Donald had surrendered under his touch and, graciously, he had come undone while Scrooge had attempted ministrations that would surely have made Donald uncomfortable with others. Donald had expressed discomfort at the thought of sex, especially without deepest emotional attachment, when he was younger. Even as he told stories of watching his college friends partaking in each other, Donald a welcome partner in kissing and cuddling, Donald never looked heated or truly enjoying the idea of the physical act. He had no shame in it, but nothing had ever sparked the desire for physical intimacy before.

Until one day...

Scrooge closed his eyes. He had wondered how he would react to Donald in a more... _physical _relationship. Donald was still the son of Hortense, the child who he had raised since the twins were six years old and the boy that he had taught to be a man. Thinking of how he had touched his love, his Donald... How strange that his nephew was now _his _in such a different way.

The idea had not bothered him after the initial shock. Thinking back to when Donald had first told him of his feelings towards Scrooge, Scrooge had only wanted to keep things the same. Donald and Della were his nephew and niece, his children... but it wasn't like that, was it? Donald had never seen him like that.

Donald had been open with him, but whenever Scrooge would ask about relationships, love or intimacy, Donald could close himself off. He'd avoid Scrooge's gaze. When he came out to Scrooge as homosexual, and when Scrooge assured him that there was nothing wrong with that, he'd been calm. When Scrooge talked about his own flings with other men, Donald could look at him pensively, curiously.

Even wistful.

When Donald had said how much he loved Scrooge, in a way that men could love other men, Scrooge couldn't see a son or nephew anymore. This was a man that wanted to know about other men, or rather... wanted to know Scrooge.

Heading off to the military, Donald didn't seem so angry with the world, not as severely. He was going to focus all of that against threats to the world. His letters back home to Scrooge and Della were sweet, and Donald had only let his heart pour out more fondly, earnestly than Scrooge had ever heard before.

Donald had grown.

Scars and bandages, surgeries and therapies - Scrooge could see that Donald had changed.

The person he'd called his son had turned into a strong man that Scrooge could see himself loving. Donald's feelings hadn't changed, and Scrooge found himself returning them.

Touching was different, but it was beautiful.

Seeing Donald sleeping, looking at peace under the weight of dreams and a smile; what more could Scrooge have wanted?

* * *

"Is it all right?"

"Of course, dear heart." Scrooge handed Donald the mobile phone that Donald had just asked him for. The battery was full now. "Enjoy your lunch with Daisy. Send her my love."

Donald gave Scrooge a wave, knowing that under Duckworth's eyes that he couldn't do much more. That was one regret that Donald had about falling in love, that he couldn't just be with Scrooge as he freely as he would like. That would be an entirely different world, though, one that Donald would not wish to risk.

When he saw Daisy outside of the café, he hurried towards her. The ache in some of his healing scars was bearable in her embrace.

"Donald Duck, never go getting yourself hurt like that ever again!" She kissed his cheek over and over, holding him tightly. "Is it all right? Your injuries are-"

"I'm okay, Daisy!" Donald pulled up one sleeve to show her where stitches had held the skin under his feathers. The feathers themselves were replaced by down that was growing well over where his feathers had been cut away, by either shrapnel or clippers. "No open wounds, just scars."

"You're sure?" Daisy gripped Donald's arm, covering the place where the downy feathers were so soft and new. They were strong and steadfast; they could both feel that. Donald nodded and led her by the arm inside.

They enjoyed coffee and teacakes. They spoke about Daisy's graduation in Communications and Marketing. Gladstone had been caught by the female dormitories at the university that he had been attending with Daisy; he'd gotten in trouble but "luckily" had been pardoned by the "coincidental" saving of the Dean of Students' daughter during one of his nighttime... trysts.

"What happened?"

"Gladstone was being walked away by university security, and the woman just falls out of one of the windows in the male dormitories. Gladstone 'happened' to catch her."

Donald laughed, and Daisy joined in. They'd both been on the receiving end of Gladstone's consequences, having been found out of their own exploits while Gladstone got off without punishment.

Donald began to talk about what he had seen in the Royal British Navy. First, he had to explain how he was in the British Navy in the first place; it wasn't everyday that his Scottish background and citizenship aided him into a position that he could do what he wanted. Usually, it was his uncle's money and status doing all of that.

"You went to Egypt?!" Daisy began to ask about mummies and the Valley of the Kings. "Where else did you go?"

"Not too many places. I really liked Wales, though. One of the ports had this really cool market. They had Welsh books and snacks - I loved it."

Daisy ordered another cup of coffee, something with sweetness and chocolate. Donald ordered a little vessel for tea, ready to drown himself in Earl Grey.

They were quiet for a while, enjoying each other's company. Daisy reached out for his hand, Donald courteously granting it. Her thumb made gentle circles on his palm, welcoming and grounding.

"... I have a question, Donnie."

"Go ahead, Daze."

"After we dated for a bit, you told me that you loved someone else. Did... Did you tell them before you went to the Navy?"

Donald nodded. He turned his hand to grab her hand tightly. Donald knew that Daisy had loved him; Donald had loved her, even still, but it wasn't the love that Daisy had wanted. Donald had told her of his love for... the person that he wanted the most. Daisy had encouraged him to seek out his love, and she had loved him all the while.

"Were they... Have you talked with them since?"

"We..." Donald sighed, squeezing her hand. He lowered his head, trying to focus. He wanted to tell her so badly, but he hadn't said anything to Scrooge about talking about their relationship. As far as Donald knew, Scrooge would want to keep everyone out of their business.

"Who is it, Donald?"

"Um..."

"A man?"

"Yes." Donald sighed, keeping his voice low. "I... I can't talk about it."

"Donnie, how happy can you be if you can't talk about your love?"

Donald let Daisy squeeze his hand again. She looked at him in the same way that had enchanted him back in middle school. She held on tightly, like she could lose him. He couldn't be lost again, not like he almost was before. Donald could remember those nights, when Daisy would help him with songs and music. She would kiss him to sleep whenever he woke up from nightmares during their sleepovers. She knew everything about him, even going so far as knowing his preferences in men... or rather, the man that Donald loved.

"Daisy... I- I mean-"

"Honey, I know that you are doing this for a good reason. Everything you do has a good reason. Well, except for that one time with the gum-"

"Don't make me remember that."

"Anyway, I just want you to know that if you're forced to keep this a secret, then is this really what you want?" Daisy squeezed his hand again.

"Daisy, I'll tell you anything I'm comfortable with, but I won't tell you this."

Daisy nodded.

She called for the customer's receipt.

**Author's Note:**

> Research has been done for this series, but Disney duck things is something that I never thought I would research so intensely.


End file.
